The Voice

Good Monday morning all and welcome to The Voice.

To continue my dialogue on the writer's voice I thought I would discuss the following question:

Where does the mature voice come from?

A good question that many young writers may ask others and themselves.

The answer is deceptively simple: It comes from knowing your self.

One of my favourite quotes by Erica Jong expresses what I mean, "Everyone has talent. What is rare is the courage to follow talent to the dark place where it leads."

This is not as ominous a quote as I first thought. The dark place is not necessarily negative or dangerous, but more likely undiscovered--at least for some.

I am not suggesting that all writers, if they keep at it, know their inner-self. But, when you work in an industry that is artistic in nature I think for your work to continue to mature and grow you must look within and discover yourself and your motivations.

Stephanie Dowrick in her book Intimacy & Solitude discusses the fact that it is impossible to really listen to and know someone else without being able to listen to and know yourself. She is absolutely right. This is something I have found out for myself in my travels through my world and this applies to writing directly.

How can a writer accurately portray their characters if they can't be themselves?

I'm sure we've all met people who seem to be perpetually acting. Nothing they do or say seems to ring true and after a bit of paying attention you realize they act as if they are reading from cue cards. They say what seems to suit the situation or will help them get what they want.

These 'actors' may interest us briefly, but they quickly lose their charm.

Writers that cannot be comfortable with themselves will end up creating characters that are flat. The characters aren't defined and seem unemotional to the reader. (I have certainly read books like that.)

I have also read books where the writer really wasn't that great, but the characters came alive.

I guess my point in all this is that the mature voice comes with being with yourself.

It comes from those days you agonize over what to write and how to approach it. It comes from those days that the words just flow out of you. And it comes from those moments when you realize that a writer is what you are, not just what you do.

But, most importantly, it comes from being able to sit down with yourself and listen to what your mind and body are telling you.

If you can't listen to what you are trying to tell yourself, your relationship with your words is going to be at arm's length.

I don't want to live my life at arm's length from anything, especially not my self.